


September Night

by goodluckgettingtosleep



Series: Force of Nature [2]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Famous, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Boys Kissing, Concerts, Country!Reggie, Disney World & Disneyland, Everyone Is Famous, Falling In Love, Famous Sunset Curve, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Getting Together, Heartbreak, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Minor Kayla/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Music, Musicians, POV Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Pansexual Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Past Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Past Julie Molina/Luke Patterson - Freeform, Pining, Reggie is a country star, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Songwriting, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers, Sunset Curve (Julie and The Phantoms), Sunset Curve is only Luke & Alex & Bobby, it's 2002, punk!luke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29865171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodluckgettingtosleep/pseuds/goodluckgettingtosleep
Summary: Reggie meets Luke in a toilet stall at an award show when he's just trying to hide from an overly clingy Carrie Wilson. Reggie is an international country star, and Luke is the frontman of famous pop punk band Sunset Curve. He knows he's playing with fire when he agrees to sneak out of the award show together with Luke to attend an underground punk rock gig instead, but there is something about Luke that burns down his world and builds it back up from the ashes in a perfect shape. Luke's warmth is addictive too, slowly melting away some of the ice that has grown around Reggie's heart.or, Reggie's POV to my fic "Force of Nature"
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Kayla/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Reggie Peters & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms)
Series: Force of Nature [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195697
Comments: 17
Kudos: 27





	September Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends. So many of you requested this, and my fingers itched to write it, so here we are. This is a side project while I'm working on multiple new fics, so please don't expect regular updates on this one. But I figured that's okay, since Force of Nature is already fully up. Thank you again for all the love on that one, it's been so overwhelming! I'm so happy you all found so much joy in it. 
> 
> In case you haven't, you should read [Force of Nature](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29247897/chapters/71818065) first, since that was my main baby. That isn't to say that Reggie's POV is less than. There is a lot to tell from his perspective. The dialogue in this first one is 99% the same as in the first chapter of FoN, buuut... for some reason this version turned out 3k words longer than the original version. I guess Reggie has a lot of thoughts. 
> 
> ALSO!! Check out this beautiful take on Reggie's POV my friend wrote for this story: [I Hold With Those Who Favor Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29519205)  
> big thanks to [@DaintyDuck_99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyDuck_99) for not only writing it but also for being my beta so we don't have to die like sunset curve xx
> 
> Hope you enjoy xx

Reggie Peters’s fight or flight instinct has always been a bit skewed. Flight usually wins out and has him running for the hills from any situation he deems too uncomfortable to bear, and tonight is no different. Award shows are always a little stressful, but Carrie Wilson has attached herself to his side and keeps making eyes at him, rubbing his arms in a way that feels a little too _friendly_ and flirting in a way that makes him want to knock himself out with his own bass guitar. The worst part, however, is that she knows he has a girlfriend. She _knows_ Kayla. But she doesn’t seem to care and keeps trying to get somewhere with him anyway. And well, yeah, maybe Reggie and Kayla aren’t happy and it’s all a little messed up, but Carrie doesn’t know that. She only sees the famous singer in him that will undoubtedly provide her with enough publicity to promote her new album, if she was seen with him. It makes him feel a little sick, and he carefully extracts himself from her touch. 

“Please just stop that, Carrie,” he snaps, frowning at her. “It’s not going to happen.” 

Carrie sighs and steps closer again, making Reggie take another step back.

“We’re just having a good time, Reggie. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” 

She sounds so snooty, and frankly, Reggie is absolutely done with her. His skin is itching, and his flight instinct kicks in, so he excuses himself and runs off towards the bathroom. He needs a breather, and a game plan to avoid Carrie for the rest of the night. He may not be in love with his girlfriend anymore, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hurt her. Plus, he’s just really not interested in Carrie. 

He takes a deep breath when he pushes the door to the men’s room open, trying to find comfort in the fancy yet ugly blue tiles. It’s not secluded enough, though— he needs somewhere more crammed to just hide away for a bit. Reggie bites his lip and clenches his fists as he walks towards one of the toilet stalls, faintly wondering how his life became such a dream and an absolute nightmare both at the same time. If there’s something like fate, surely he must have angered the universe in some way for it to set him up like that. 

He sighs when he pushes a random stall door open— and is greeted with one Luke Patterson sitting on the toilet. Reggie blinks. And blinks again. Something akin to panic simmers under his surprise, and it’s only getting worse the longer Luke just sits there staring at him. And then the singer's eyes start wandering up and down Reggie’s body, and he just feels a little too warm and a little too out of place. There is a blush on his cheeks, he thinks, and it’s not only due to his embarrassment for walking in on Luke Patterson using a toilet. There is a small voice in the back of his head reminding him that it’s not his fault that Luke didn’t lock the door, but it’s weak and faint. Why did he have to choose the one stall in the entire empty bathroom that is indeed occupied? Just his luck again. _Thanks universe,_ Reggie thinks. The moment of silence lasts too long, and Luke’s eyes are burning across his body, so Reggie clears his throat and gives in to the urge to say something. 

“Oh, I’m— I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise this one was occupied. The whole toilet is empty, and leave it to me to choose the one stall that isn’t,” he rambles, his cheeks heating up. Luke chuckles. He chuckles? 

“Relax, man. I’m not using the toilet, see?” Luke tells him, pointing at his fully dressed bottom half. Reggie’s cheeks heat up further as his eyes wander over Luke’s tight pants. He really had to run into Luke Patterson of all people tonight, didn’t he? The one person Kayla always made fun of him for having a _celebrity crush_ on, as if she wasn’t the one who introduced him to _Sunset Curve_ in the first place. 

“Oh! Right. I see,” Reggie says, his eyes wandering away from Luke’s crotch and finding the joint in his hand. Oh, what Reggie would give for one of those right now; just inhaling the smoke and feeling his tight muscles relax a little bit. 

“You wanna share?” Luke asks, as if he read Reggie’s thoughts. His eyes widen, but then he nods before he can think about it further, quickly taking a step into the small stall and closing the door behind him. Luke chuckles and hands him the joint. Reggie takes it with a small, grateful sort of smile, knowing deep down that this is a really bad idea. But he can’t find it in him to care much right now, so he does it anyway. He takes a deep drag and inhales, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. 

“Ugh, this is good,” he says when he exhales, handing the joint back to Luke’s waiting hand. The punk singer chuckles again, gladly taking it. 

“You look like you need it,” he comments as he pulls the weed into his lungs, looking every bit the rockstar that he is, lounging there on an absurdly blue toilet in his expensive, sleeveless suit. Reggie wishes he could be anywhere as cool as him. Luke always looks so unbothered, determined to just do what he loves and not give a damn what anyone thinks. It’s admirable. 

Reggie forces himself to tear his eyes away from Luke’s trained arms, his biceps likely so defined from holding a guitar all day. 

“Yeah, I probably do, man,” Reggie admits. “I actually came here to hide from this girl… she’s an upcoming singer, she’s really good, don’t get me wrong. But I kind of have a…” He shakes his head. A fleeting image of Kayla pops into his mind, but he decides he doesn’t want to ruin this moment, this limited time bubble he has with Luke, by talking about Kayla. “I’m not interested right now, and I don’t think she wants to accept that,” he says instead. 

Luke looks at him like he feels that from personal experience and offers the joint back to Reggie just as he exhales smoke in a way that looks just completely _cool_ again. 

“Dude, she sounds like a dick,” Luke comments. The smoke frames his form, and he almost looks like an artsy photograph still, sitting there on a toilette of all things. Even the blue of the tiles somehow make his eyes pop in the dim, fancy light. 

Reggie frowns when Luke’s words catch up to him. He wouldn’t say Carrie is a dick, _exactly,_ but...

“No, she’s just—” he starts, but then he remembers her overly clingy way of flirting with him despite knowing that he has a girlfriend. “You know what? No, you’re right. She is a bit of a dick.” 

Luke laughs as he takes the joint back. The sound makes Reggie feel some type of way he can’t quite pinpoint. Luke has a good laugh; it sounds like he feels it with every bone in his body, and there is nothing superficial about it. 

“I’m Luke, by the way,” he says then, and Reggie snorts. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Luke tilts his head and looks at him quizzically, eyebrows raised in question. He’s clearly used to people already knowing his name when he meets them, and so is Reggie, but the look in Luke’s eyes throws him completely off balance. He can’t find any sense of recognition in it, and Reggie feels that like a soft punch to the gut. Luke Patterson has no idea who he is. 

“Oh! I’m… I’m Reggie. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed…” Reggie blushes again, suddenly feeling stupid. Of course Luke wouldn’t know who he is. He’s _Luke Patterson,_ aka arguably the coolest person on the planet. 

“It’s fine, man, “ Luke says around a laugh. “Been there, done that. If anything, I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you. I mean, I still don’t, to be honest. What kinda music do you make, then?” 

Reggie chuckles, willing the blush to finally leave his cheeks, but he knows it’s still there, likely making him look all blotchy again in that ridiculous kind of way it always does. 

“Country, mostly. It’s what I’m known for anyway, but I’ve been branching out. I’m currently working on a punk album, actually,” Reggie tells him truthfully. He feels the excitement bubbling up in his chest when he thinks about the pop punk album he’s spent the last couple of months writing. 

Luke nods, finishing off the joint and getting up from the toilet seat to throw it in. 

“That explains it, then. Can’t say I’m big on country. Sorry. I’m sure you’re like, really good, though.” 

Reggie shrugs. He didn’t really expect Luke to be into country either, if he’s honest. That just makes it all the more embarrassing that Reggie just assumed that Luke knows who he is, though. But Reggie has always been good at covering up his own embarrassment with jokes, topic changes, or the confidence he is not feeling just yet, but will be once he gets through.

“I _shred_ on the banjo,” Reggie tells him, grinning. “And I can sing alright.” 

Luke laughs again, and somehow he makes it sound like it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. It makes Reggie feel all warm on the inside. 

“You wanna get out of here, man?” Luke asks suddenly, and Reggie blinks in surprise. At the same time, his entire body already screams _YES_ in response to the flight instinct he’s still running on. “I can think of a million places I’d rather be right now, and since you mentioned punk… we could hit a few clubs and see who’s playing,” he suggests. 

Reggie blinks again, but the thought is too tempting to decline. He wanted a game plan to dodge Carrie for the rest of the night, and Luke just handed it to him on a silver platter. There’s a smile growing on his lips as he keeps considering it, and Luke’s smile in return is really all it takes to convince him. 

“Okay. You know what? Fuck it. Let’s do it.” 

Reggie feels that thrill of doing something stupid, something he’s _not technically allowed_ to do, when he follows Luke through the maze that is the backstage area of the VMA’s towards the backdoor. They have to dodge several staff members as they do, and Luke tells them that Reggie needs some air, putting the full blame on him, but Reggie doesn’t even care. He shoots him a glare anyway, because it feels like he should. It’s exhilarating, though, breaking the rules. He never does it, always too scared of offending anyone or causing the people around him trouble. Luke seems like the complete opposite of that, and Reggie lets his laidback attitude infect him. Reggie feels like he’s confined himself to the limits of his own created boundaries for so long, even something barely rebellious as sneaking out of an award show feels freeing to him. 

And then Luke takes his hand. It feels like it belongs there, and Reggie thinks he doesn’t want him to let go again. Which is completely ridiculous, because they barely know each other. Right? Luke drags him along until they stumble out of the backdoor together, the fresh night air doing nothing to sober Reggie up. He feels warm and relaxed at the same time as the exhilarating thrill of doing something _he_ wants for once is thrumming through his veins. 

Reggie giggles, the sound falling from his lips, and Luke turns around to meet his eyes. There is a fluttery sensation roaring to life beneath his ribcage and Reggie feels a little breathless all of a sudden. He’s drawn to Luke’s warmth still radiating from their linked hands, and it’s like a cozy fire on a cold winter night, slowly starting to melt away some of the ice that has grown around his heart over the last couple of years. It’s been so long that Reggie feels a little dizzy all of a sudden. 

He laughs it away.

“Why is this thing we’re doing here completely legal, and yet it feels like it isn’t?” Reggie asks instead, trying to regain his bearings. He’s not just talking about the fact that they’re running away from an awards show they’re expected to attend. Luke’s fire is warm, but like every fire, it also has the potential to cause burns. 

Luke snorts. 

“It’s the cages of the show biz, _baby,”_ he says, emphasising the _baby_ , and Reggie’s cheeks heat right back up. He just thought about the dangers of fire, and every minute he spends with Luke seems like he’s more likely to get burned. And the worst part is that he enjoys that thrill. It’s only been half an hour at most, and Reggie feels completely enthralled. Though then again, maybe it has been longer for him. Maybe Luke’s fire has been a spark somewhere before, ever since he was first introduced to his music. 

“Though it’s only half-legal. I still got some weed in my pockets,” Luke adds with a cheeky grin. 

Reggie snorts. “Of course you do.” 

Luke hums and looks around, and it looks like he’s scanning the fences to find the best spot to climb over. Reggie starts feeling a little disheartened when he doesn’t immediately find a way out of the locked off area. He already attached himself so much to their escape plan that he doesn’t think he could bear having to go back in and face Carrie, as well as the other lingering burdens of his life. 

“Okay,” Luke says, snapping Reggie out of his little spiral. “Let’s get out of here and then hit the clubs downtown. I’m pumped for some _punk rock._ ” 

Right. No fence can keep Luke Patterson in if he doesn’t want to stay. That’s the biggest difference between the two of them. 

Luke pulls at his hand and drags Reggie over to a dumpster next to the fence. He climbs up with a few swift movements before reaching down to help Reggie up as well. If Reggie noticed the way Luke’s muscles tensed when he pulled himself up - well. He is only human, alright? 

Luke easily climbs over the rest of the fence and jumps down on the other side. Reggie takes a deep breath and does the same, stumbling a little when he lands and bumping right into Luke, who reaches out to steady him with a hand on his shoulder. Reggie still feels a little out of breath, and it only gets worse when their eyes meet and they share a smile. It’s over before Reggie can process any thought at all, and then Luke takes his hand again and drags him towards the street. The warmth of his hand is enough to bring his giddy excitement right back to the surface, and he giggles. 

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve done since breaking into an indoors swimming pool in high school,” Reggie tells him. It’s true. Most of his friends - except for Willie, who’s the only one who continuously drags him off his ass - aren’t the wildest bunch. And Kayla hasn’t been the most fun since their accident either. It’s been six years, and Reggie thinks that a wheelchair isn’t a reason to not have fun anymore, but Kayla seems to disagree. It’s like the accident dimed her light, and drained all her colors, only leaving a shell of the bubbly, life-loving girl she once was. She is far from the girl Reggie fell in love with now, and the worst part is that he can’t even blame her. It’s his fault, and he wishes nothing more than to return her colors. He has yet to succeed. 

One again, her image evaporates from his mind the moment Luke makes another sound. 

He snorts. “Well, aren’t you a wild one?” 

“This may come as a shock to you, Luke, but most country people I meet aren’t the craziest bunch. The beer and chicken fried they sing about tend to be the highlights of their weeks,” Reggie jokes. It’s not a lie, either, even though Reggie usually spends too much time with Kayla or hangs out at Willie’s to go out with his country friends. 

Luke drags Reggie through a row of trees and they finally reach the street. 

He turns to look at him, and Reggie gets caught in Luke’s eyes again. They look dark, almost brown in the dim, yellow street light. The bathroom light made them look greener, and the white light backstage made them look dark blue. Luke’s eyes seem to change color, and Reggie thinks it fits his personality quite well. 

“Time to make some friends who are a bit more fun, then,” Luke says, grinning. Reggie is acutely aware that they’re still holding hands, and it makes his skin feel a little tingly, the feeling spreading through his arm and all over his chest.

He grins back at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Like you?” 

Luke nods, and there is a gleam in his eyes that’s right in the middle of cocky and confident, with an underlying sense of mischief. 

“Like me. Come on.” 

He waves for a taxi, and a few minutes later they’re sitting in the backseat of one on their way downtown. Luke had let go of Reggie’s hand when they climbed into the back of the car, and Reggie already misses its warmth. 

“So, Reg. Tell me more about you,” Luke says after a short moment of silence. 

Reggie snorts and looks over to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Like what?” 

Luke shrugs. “We’re about to spend the night together and I literally don’t know anything about you.” 

Reggie knows he phrased it like that on purpose, but it still sends enough fantasies to his mind that it makes him blush again. He figures he’s really doing an awful lot of blushing around Luke, and it’s just part of walking that tightrope, of holding your hand just over the open flame. 

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it, huh?” Reggie asks, returning Luke’s suggestive smile. He isn’t a blushy virgin, alright. He can flirt. In fact, it’s one of the things he’s been told he’s rather good at. “Alright, _babe._ I’m Reggie Peters - can’t I really can’t remember the last time I had to say this to anyone who didn’t already know. Reggie is actually short for Reginald. Thanks, parents.” Reggie faintly wonders if he shouldn’t have given Luke that particular ammunition. But something about Luke just makes him want to tell him _everything._ “I grew up in the midwest. Missouri, to be precise. I’m 24. I have a dog named _Hotdog_. The first instrument I learned to play was the bass guitar. I actually like punk rock more than country, but I wouldn’t want to miss my country either.” 

Reggie grins at him. Normally he’s a little hesitant to disclose much information about himself, but Luke just makes it so easy. “Now you,” he says. Luke nods, considering him for a moment. Then he tilts his head.

“Tell me what you already know about me first.” 

Reggie sighs, and he knows he’s blushing _again._ The fact of the matter is that he knows more about Luke Patterson that he likes to admit. 

“Well. You’re Luke Patterson,” he says, already feeling a little self-conscious with Luke’s gaze on him. “Lead singer and lead guitarist of Sunset Curve. You’ve been involved in writing every single Sunset song, if not writing it by yourself in the first place. You’re… also 24? I think.” Reggie nearly snorts there, because he knows exactly that Luke is 24. He also knows his birthday. He’s almost 25. About two months older than Reggie. “Pop punk wouldn’t be the same without you today.” 

Luke laughs and shoves Reggie’s shoulder. 

“That’s quite impressive, dude. Say, are you a fan?” 

Reggie snorts. Luke’s snooty confidence is really all that’s keeping him from blushing again. But he might as well own up to it now. 

“Yeah, you’re really making me rethink that,” he jokes.

Luke shrugs casually and meets Reggie’s eyes, and there is something in the way his lips curl upwards and his eyes sparkle that sends that fluttery sensation right back under Reggie’s ribs. 

“I’ve been told I’m quite the charmer in real life,” Luke tells him, and it’s so over the top flirty that Reggie has to suppress a smile when he replies, “Are you, then?” 

Luke hums, leaning back a little.

“Alright. Everything you said about me was true. I guess you’ll have to wait and see if you can figure out more.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Reggie hoots. “I do love a challenge,” he tells him. 

They’re flirting. Reggie is aware they’re flirting, and that flame just gets a little hotter, a little more dangerous to be around. But Luke is like a magnet too, and Reggie just can’t pull away from him; not that he’s trying very hard. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not uncomfortable. Reggie watches Luke from the side, watches the singer’s eyes flicker over the lights outside, clearly lost in his own thoughts. He faintly wonders what Luke is thinking about. If he’s also not sure how they ended up in this car together instead of sitting in the audience at VMA’s, waiting for their categories to be announced, sharing smiles and small talk with people who are more or less interesting. Reggie doesn’t hate it. But he thinks it gets exhausting, sometimes. The endless pretending; the way it just feels like another cage in this life that he can’t break out of. But he did break out, and now he’s on the run with a guy who feels familiar in an abstract way and somehow vibrates with _life,_ with the potential of so much more. It’s a little scary too, the danger of it all. The danger of Luke’s fire. Because Reggie feels himself getting addicted to the warmth, to the heat when he gets closer, and he hasn’t even known him personally for a full hour. It’s both terrifying and exciting to think about how he’s going to feel about it at the end of the night. Warm and cozy, or with second degree burns. 

Luke suddenly perks up like he’s seen something, asking the driver to stop. He pays him and then shoves at Reggie’s shoulder, ushering him out of the car. Reggie frowns in confusion but does as he’s gestured at, and the next thing he knows, Luke’s hand is back in his and he’s dragging him down the street again. They stop in front of an old looking, dimly lit thrift shop, and Reggie looks up and down their fancily dressed bodies and begins to see what Luke is up to. Luke turns his head and grins at him, sending Reggie’s fluttering on a merry-go-round through his insides. It’s strange, the effect Luke has on him. It feels almost too much, too intense to be real. Reggie jumps a little when the bell rings as Luke pushes the door open, abruptly ripping him out of his thoughts. 

Nobody else seems to be in the shop when they step in, aside from a lady behind the counter who looks like she could be their mom. She looks friendly, though, and her flowery dress is nice. Her eyes widen a little when she spots them, and then she keeps staring with something like recognition on her face. Reggie knows that look all too well, because he sees it every day on all kinds of random people. 

Reggie almost forgot he and Luke are still holding hands until Luke pulls him down the first aisle and away from the lady’s eyes. 

“Probably a fan of yours,” Luke hisses, grinning. Reggie snorts. Luke is probably right. But,

“She could be one of yours, too.” 

Luke raises an eyebrow and lets go of Reggie’s hand to look through the shirts on the racks. Reggie immediately misses his warmth again and pulls one of his sleeves down over his hand to make up for it. 

Luke snorts. 

“Yeah, she looks just like your regular Sunset Curve fan.” 

Reggie shrugs, wiggling his eyebrows. “Do I?” 

Laughing, Luke pulls out a white _Sunset Curve_ shirt from one of the racks. _No way._ It’s almost too much of a coincidence to be real. 

“Now you will,” he teases with a grin and hands the shirt over to Reggie. 

Snorting, Reggie clutches the shirt to his chest as Luke keeps browsing, before heading towards the opposite rack to look for something very specific as an idea sneaks into his mind. It’s a long shot, but Reggie goes looking anyway. It takes only him a few minutes to succeed, and he laughs out loud when he finds a shirt with a black and dark red design from one of his first tours with his name and face on it. Reggie almost feels like the universe doesn’t hate him quite so much tonight. He holds the shirt up and presents it to Luke when the punk singer turns around, shooting him a wide grin. 

“There goes all doubt I had left that you were really just a fan pretending to be famous so you could befriend me,” Luke jokes and catches the shirt when Reggie tosses it over. 

“You gonna wear it?” 

Grinning, Luke effortlessly slings the shirt over his shoulder, still looking absolutely cool. He will rock the hell out of that shirt, Reggie knows. And somehow the idea of Luke running around with his face on his chest all night does all kinds of funny things to _Reggie’s_ chest. 

“Hell, yeah,” Luke confirms, that signature gleam back in his eyes. 

About twenty minutes later, they are both coming out of the changing room dressed in black jeans that are probably a little too tight, Reggie in the white _Sunset Curve_ shirt and a black leather jacket, and Luke is sporting the Reggie merch and a light blue denim jacket that suits him unfairly well. But it’s mostly the sight of the shirt that still sends Reggie right into a little crisis. He can’t be crushing on Luke _that_ hard, now can he? He shouldn’t, first of all, but he’s also only spent less than two hours with him so far. He thinks he’s screwed anyway. 

The lady at the counter can barely contain her excitement as they approach. Luke nudges Reggie in the side, his shiteating grin almost making Reggie roll his eyes at him. As Luke puts their items near her register, the woman keeps eying them, and Reggie knows she’s about to say something. And sure enough, she says, “Excuse me, I have to ask. You’re Luke from _Sunset Curve,_ right?” 

Reggie laughs out loud and pokes Luke in the side, absolutely enjoying the way his mouth opens and closes again in surprise, cheeks taking on a slight tint of pink. _Finally,_ Reggie thinks. The rockstar cracks. 

“He is,” Reggie tells her when Luke doesn’t seem to be able to reply just yet. He’s still giggling, he can’t help it. The woman’s eyes scan him, and then she raises a surprise eyebrow as recognition dawns on her face. 

“Oh my, and you’re Reggie Peters,” she says, a hand coming up to her mouth. Reggie shrugs and tilts his head, giving her a small smile. 

“He is,” Luke provides, finally shaking himself out of it. 

“I didn’t know you were friends.” The lady gestures between them. “This is an interesting combination, if I’m allowed to say that. My daughter is a huge fan of your band, Luke. Mr Patterson? I’m sorry, she’s talking about _Luke_ all day, so I suppose that’s what my mind jumps to first upon seeing you. She’s not going to believe this.” 

Luke smiles a satisfied little smile, like he was just proven right again after all, and Reggie wants to kick him a little bit. Of course it had to be the daughter. 

“Luke is fine. Better even. Mr Patterson is my dad,” Luke tells her with a charming sort of smile. The one that you give your friends’ moms. The woman smiles back and nods, holding out a notepad. 

“You think you could sign this for her? I suppose it’s a bit lame, since it’s just a piece of paper, but it’ll still be your autograph and I think she’s going to love it,” she says. Luke nods and takes it. 

“What’s her name?” 

“Lucy!” 

Smiling rather adorably to himself, Luke writes a quick note for Lucy, signs it and draws heart beneath, before handing it back. Reggie takes a peek at the writing, a smile growing on his lips as he reads. He feels that warmth in his chest again, but this time it’s on behalf of the fan that Luke so clearly genuinely cares about. Aloof rockstar, alright. 

_Lucy. Your mom tells me you’re a really cool dude, and you have to be if you like Sunset Curve. Always keep going, and we’ll be right there with you every step of the way. Love and stuff, Luke_

“Love and stuff?” he mouths teasingly as he meets Luke’s eyes and gives him that genuine smile, and Luke pokes him in the side. 

“This is so sweet, Luke! Thank you. She’s going to be over the moon.” The woman takes the piece of paper from the notepad and then hands the empty one to Reggie. 

“Would _you_ sign this for _me_ , then?” she asks with a smile Reggie knows all too well. The middle aged mom flirting with him but then realising that he might be a little young and trying to tone it down. A classic. 

“Sure,” Reggie says, giving her the matching smile he has specially for those kinds of fans. A little charming, but also a little reserved to keep the more pushy ones at bay. “To?” 

“Oh, it’s Jodie.” 

Reggie hums as he writes down a few words that are go-tos for him but still not impersonal and then signs the sheet before handing it back to her. Jodie gives him another flirty sort of look that has no effect on him at all except for making his skin itch a little. He loves his fans, but sometimes he wishes their demographic was a little more in his own range. 

Luke has a stupid little smile on his face when he pays and Reggie has no idea what caused it, but it makes him feel a little fluttery again and it’s such a pleasant sensation that he doesn’t question it. 

“You can keep our suits. We don’t need them,” Luke tells Jodie, and the woman stares at him and then suits with wide eyes. 

“But that’s Gucci! And Balenciaga? Oh my! These suits must have cost a fortune! I can’t possibly…” Her voice is high pitched, and Luke gives her his most charming camera smile. Reggie knows, because he’s seen it in countless tabloids and magazines before. 

“Think of it as a donation. And there is no way Reggie and I are leaving with them, so… guess you got no choice but to keep them,” Luke tells her, and Jodie nearly falls over herself thanking them. Reggie matches Luke’s smile at her, and then the warmth is back when he feels Luke’s hand sneak into his again and he’s being dragged out of the thrift shop and back onto the stuffy downtown LA night air. Luke doesn’t let go as they walk down the street and it makes Reggie think that he never wants to walk down a street without Luke’s hand in his again. The fire is just getting a little hotter. 

“I guess we both won that bet we didn’t actually make,” Reggie says, and intertwines their fingers, because he’s a masochist who can’t help himself. He’s selfish and _takes_ even in the face of an inferno around him. 

Luke hums and has the most adorable grin on his face when he looks up and meets Reggie’s eyes. Luke’s eyes are the most unfair color Reggie has ever seen, because they’re every color, all at once. They keep changing, almost like mood rings. 

“I didn’t count on the _daughter!_ It’s always the daughters,” Luke says. 

Reggie laughs. “Yeah, unfortunately, it’s mostly the _moms_ for me, and only the occasional daughter,” he tells him, then stops, thinking it over for a second. “Or son,” he adds, and he doesn’t know why he feels like sharing this with Luke. It’s something that's been brewing inside him for so long now, though, and it’s itching to get out. 

“You rocking both boats, then?” Luke asks and Reggie swears he almost sounds… _hopeful?_ He’s sure it’s all in his might, though. Why would Luke Patterson have any special opinion about his sexuality, after all? Reggie shrugs. 

“Bi is fly, man,” he says, aiming for pride and nailing it, but it only lasts for a couple of seconds until Reggie feels even more insecure than before he’s said that. His confidence seeps out of him and he blushes. “But I’m not actually…” he starts. But no, that’s not it. “I mean, I _am_ . I just never… I’ve never been with anyone to actually _prove…_ it.” Reggie wants to move to another planet, he thinks. Like, low key. Why is he telling Luke all that? “And I also never told anyone before. Why did I…? You… Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Reggie stammers and tries to let go of Luke’s hand, but Luke doesn’t let him. He tightens his grip and stops Reggie in his tracks. 

“Chill, man,” he says, smiling brightly. “Bi _is_ fly. You don’t have to have been with a dude to prove anything either. And I’m honoured you told me.” 

Reggie’s frown eases back into a small smile. A sense of relief starts spreading in his chest. Luke accepts him. His first time telling anyone is not going awfully. 

“Look. I know how you feel,” Luke tells him. 

Reggie raises an eyebrow. Now _that_ he didn’t expect to hear from the punk singer. “You do?” 

Nodding, Luke starts walking again, pulling Reggie along by their joined hands. Reggie stumbles a little, but manages to keep up. 

“Yeah. I dated Alex for two years. Up until last year. But you wouldn’t know that, because I didn’t want it to affect the way our music is perceived. It didn’t go well. Hiding something so important about yourself… it sucks, man.” 

Reggie stops in his tracks, inadvertently bringing Luke to a halt as well. He knows his eyes are probably like saucers, and it’s an overall embarrassing reaction to an admission like that, but he can’t help it. 

“Alex Mercer?” he _shrieks._ He thinks he actually _shrieks._ “From your band?” 

Luke chuckles and uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his head in a bit of a flustered motion. Reggie wants to scream a little bit, because it’s not fair that he's both so cool and so adorable at the same time. 

“That’s the one.” 

Reggie takes a deep breath, trying to process this new information. It’s one thing to be crushing on a straight punk rock singer, it’s a whole different one to be crushing on a queer one. The flames grow a little more blue around him, the heat almost searing at this point. 

“So, you’re…” he starts, biting his lip. 

Luke shrugs and starts walking again, pulling Reggie along down the street. 

“I just like _people_. I don’t care what gender they are.” 

Reggie takes that in, a smile growing on his face as considers Luke’s words. It makes a lot of sense, and there is a lot of beauty in a statement like that, Reggie thinks. 

“I like that,” he tells him. Luke chuckles, and Reggie watches him from the side, faintly wondering what he is about to say. He looks like someone who is about to say something. 

“Well. If you do want to prove something to yourself… I’ve been told I’m a rather good kisser,” Luke says quietly, shyly almost, suddenly a far cry from the nonchalant rockstar. Reggie’s heart stops, his mind screaming at him in at least ten different languages he doesn’t even know. Luke wants to kiss him? How the fuck is he supposed to say no to that? But he knows there is no way he can, no way he _should—_ Oh, but Luke’s flames are so very addictive. 

“What?” Reggie squeaks. “You want to kiss me?” 

Luke just looks at him and shrugs, like it’s no big deal at all.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

Reggie keeps staring at him, the heat drawing him in and engulfing him, his whole body burning with it. He _can’t._ He needs to pull away, he knows he does. Plus, he doesn’t just want Luke to kiss him because he’s taking pity on him. How would they ever come back from that? 

“And that wouldn’t be weird and awkward, how?” he asks incredulously, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “I don’t want a pity kiss.” 

Luke scoffs, eyeing Reggie like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. 

“Pity kiss, alright.” 

There is a gleam in his eyes that Reggie can’t quite place, and the next thing he knows, he is dragged into a dark alley and gently pushed against a wall. _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ Reggie’s mind screams. He knows his eyes are wide as he stares at Luke, frozen to the spot. Which is almost poetic, considering the way he feels hotter than ever before, the fire closing in on him. 

“I’m gonna show you how. If you don’t want me to, this is the moment to say _no_.” 

Reggie tries, he really does. For a split second he tries to conjure an image of Kayla and feel something that would make him want to push Luke away, but he gives up the moment he fails and nods instead. His eyes wander down to Luke’s lips, slightly chapped and plush and _pink._ He’s jumping right into the flames, and he’s never been more unafraid and absolutely paralyzed by fear both at the same time. 

Luke keeps looking at Reggie for a long moment, and then he glances down at his lips, and Reggie feels all fluttery when he presses his own against them. Reggie feels one of Luke’s hands on his cheeks, the other coming around his waist. He pushes himself closer, pinning Reggie more firmly against the wall. Reggie sighs, revelling in his free fall, the tingly sensation low in his stomach making him feel like he’s a bird soaring through the air for a moment, but he’s really hurtling towards the hard ground, with nothing to hold onto. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, flailing around as he keeps falling, Luke’s lips moving against his and deepening their kiss into something that feels impossibly _hotter._ Luke catches one of his hands mid-air and intertwines their fingers, holding on tight. Reggie feels him smile against his mouth, and he’s known before that he is absolutely _fucked,_ but somehow it feels so fundamental now that he has the inescapable feeling that his life will never be the same again after tonight. How is he going to live on now that he got a taste of Luke? Now that he knows how perfectly their lips fit together, making him feel warm and lightheaded, and like the whole world belongs to them. Reggie feels weak in the knees when Luke pulls away, and he’s glad Luke keeps his arms around him, palms pressed against the brick wall behind him, as if he needs to steady himself, too. Luke does breathe heavily, his eyes wide, pupils blown, cheeks red and lips faintly swollen and glistening in the dim street lights. He’s the most beautiful thing Reggie has ever seen, and he doesn’t know what to do with him. 

“I am _so_ bi, bro,” Reggie manages to say, voice low and a little bit scratchy in the back of his throat. He still feels a little breathless.

“Happy to be of service,” Luke tells him, panting a little as he looks back up. Reggie gasps a little when Luke presses another short, chaste kiss to Reggie’s lips. It’s soft and gentle, and Reggie wants a million more. “Now, let’s catch some punk rock?” 

Reggie nods and can’t help the big smile taking over his features. This time he’s the one who takes Luke’s hand, and he pulls him back out the small, dark alleyway and onto the main road. Reggie still feels like he’s falling, but he’s sure the hard ground can’t be far away now. Luke let’s go of his hand as they approach a small, trashy looking club. Reggie misses it immediately, but he knows it’s for the best. And not just because neither of them is keen on having their pictures plastered all over the tabloids in the morning; he’s well aware what a dangerous game he’s playing. 

“Your tickets?” The bouncer in front of the club doors asks them as they approach and Luke fully looks like someone who never has a ticket for anything, because he doesn’t need one to be let in wherever he wants to be let in. And frankly, Reggie is much the same. It’s one of the side effects of being well known. 

“Tickets?” Luke asks a little dumbly. It’s adorable. 

The man sighs.

“Yeah, kid. _Ticket_. This show is sold out.” Luke tilts his head. 

“Okay. Who’s playing tonight?” 

The bouncer looks at Luke like he’s hit his head a few times too often, and Reggie is certain that the man doesn’t recognise either of them. 

“Bunch of kids. _Simple Plan_ they’re called.” 

Luke nudges Reggie in the side. 

“They’re this up and coming pop punk band from Canada. They just released an album and their songs are _sick_ , bro. I’d love to check them out.” 

Reggie nods. He hasn’t heard of them, but the way Luke suddenly lights up with excitement makes him want to see them just as much. 

“Not without tickets, you won’t,” the bouncer says with a roll of his eyes. Reggie snorts. They will get into this club no matter what, he’s sure of it. It would likely be the first time for either of them if they didn’t. 

“Dude. He’s Luke Patterson. Don’t embarrass yourself,” Reggie says, and Luke grins at him. The bouncer still looks rather unimpressed. 

“So? And what’s that supposed to tell me?” 

Luke shrugs. 

“Just ask someone in charge if we can go in. Tell them Luke Patterson and Reggie Peters are here to see the show,” he says, sounding considerably smug. Reggie can’t blame him, because this usually works. The man eyes Luke’s shirt, then glances at Reggie, and slowly pulls out a mobile phone. He dials and repeats what Luke told him when someone picks up. When he ends the call, he eyes them both rather begrudgingly. 

“They’re sending someone out to make sure you really are whoever you claim to be,” he tells them, and looks at Luke’s shirt again, frowning as he seems to compare shirt-Reggie with real-Reggie a little more closely this time. He narrows his eyes at Reggie. “You sure do look familiar. I swear my wife mentioned you before. 

“It’s possible,” Reggie says, shrugging. “I make country music, and I’ve had a few hits.” 

Before the bouncer can say anything else, a roadie appears in the doorway, immediately taking a double take when he spots Luke. Reggie chuckles. He can’t blame him. 

“Holy shit! It’s really you. I thought someone was having us on.” 

Luke does a little curtsy, which is completely endearing, and grins in a way that makes Reggie want to kiss him again. _Damn it all._

“The one and only.” 

The roadie looks like he’s about to pass out as he ushers them in. Again, Reggie can’t really blame him. 

“Tell your wife I said _hi,_ ” Reggie says when they walk past the bouncer, matching Luke’s smug tone from before. Luke snorts. 

“I’m taking you two to meet the band first, if that’s okay? They really want to meet you,” the roadie tells them as he leads them through the tiny club into the even tinier backstage area. Reggie doesn’t think he’s ever been at the club before, but Luke seems like he feels right at home. He can picture _Sunset Curve_ playing there in their early days.

“I’m Benji, by the way,” the guy tells them. 

“Nice to meet you, dude. Thanks for letting us in. We’re pumped to see the show,” Luke says, meeting Reggie’s eyes over his shoulder. Reggie gives him a small smile. 

“Aw, no worries, man. I’m a huge fan. We all are. I gotta show you my _Sunset Curve_ tattoo later.” 

That puts a rather brilliant smile on Luke’s face, and Reggie is a little sad he can only see it from the side. He gets a feeling that Luke has a really close relationship with his fans. 

“ _Sick!_ I’d love to see it,” he says with just as much excitement as Reggie expected. 

“Also, do _you_ think you could sign something for my mom later?” Benji asks then, looking over his shoulder at Reggie. “She owns like every CD you ever released.” 

Luke snorts and Reggie sends him an amused look. 

“Sure, man,” he agrees, then lowers his voice to a whisper, so only Luke can hear him when he adds, “I told you, it’s usually the moms.” 

“And they're gonna be so disappointed when you drop your punk album,” he whispers back, chuckling. “You're gonna be like their lost wayward son.” 

Reggie snorts. He can already see the disappointed looks and questions at his next in-store signing. “Yeah, I can’t wait.” 

Benji leads them into the green room, where the band is lounging on a couch and several chairs across the room, all perking up the moment they enter the room. Reggie flashes them all a smile, happy to be there, even though he would also very much like to spend more time alone with Luke. He supposes it’s better this way anyway. 

“Dude! It’s so cool you’re here. I’m Pierre,” one of the band members introduces himself as he jumps up and offers his hand up for a high five to Luke first, and then Reggie as well. The other band members follow suit, and then start asking a lot of questions that Reggie is happy to answer, especially when he’s also offered a drink. He and Luke both sign a few things, and they all take some pictures together. It’s nice enough, and Reggie loves connecting with new, fellow musicians, but he keeps catching himself staring at Luke, the way he animatedly talks about his music, the way he smiles, the way his throat looks when he sips his beer. It feels like free fall, and Reggie dreads the moment he hits the ground. 

“I think none of us knew you were into punk, Reggie,” Pierre says eventually, “Or that you two were friends. It’s cool, man. I am digging a few songs of yours. _Home Is Where My Horse Is?_ Classic.” 

Reggie hears Luke snort, and he suppresses the urge to shove him a little for it. He knows that Luke doesn’t know any of his music yet, and he’s sure Luke will not hold back any of his judgment or amusement when he finally hears some of it. 

“Oh, yeah. I love punk rock. It was my first love, really. I _shred_ on the bass, it was the first instrument I learned. And I’m actually working on a pop punk album right now,” Reggie tells them with a shrug, and the whole band looks absolutely delighted to hear that. 

“Awesome, dude!”

“He’s also a big Sunset Curve fan,” Luke informs them, gesturing towards the shirt Reggie’s wearing. Reggie gives him a surprised look. He doesn’t miss the pride in his voice, along with something that sounds almost _possessive._

“And you’re a big Reggie Peters fan, it seems. Works out well for you two,” Pierre comments, and Luke looks down at the black shirt he is wearing, with Reggie’s face printed on in an artistic style and his name written in thick, dark red letters above it. Reggie follows his gaze, and he thinks he gets it now. The feelings he’s detected in Luke’s voice earlier. Because he feels them too, now. Luke grins when he meets Reggie’s eyes.

“I _am_ ,” he beams. The sight makes Reggie feel a little weak in the knees, even as he happily returns his grin. 

“Would you maybe want to come on stage later and play a song with us?” Pierre asks, and the way Luke’s face completely lights up at the prospect of playing music on a stage tonight is probably the best thing Reggie has ever seen. 

“Dude, hell yeah. I would love to.” Then, “You’re joining us as well, Reg, right?” 

Reggie thinks about playing music with Luke, of being on a stage with him, and he feels absolute excitement building up in his chest. He doesn’t think there is anything better he could possibly imagine right now. He’s watched Luke perform live so many times before, and he knows how Luke gets into his songs, absolutely lives for them, and manages to capture entire arenas with his stage presence. It’s just another flame that feels a little too hot to come close to, but it appears that Reggie remains a masochist when it comes to Luke Patterson. 

“I’d like that,” Reggie says with a shrug, aiming for casual. “I do know some _Sunset Curve_ songs on the bass.”

The whole band falls into a state of absolute excitement. It’s actually quite infectious. 

“So it’s settled, then. We’ll call you up. Let’s do _Now or Never?_ ” 

They all high five again, and then Luke’s hand is back in Reggie’s and he’s dragged out into the club to give the band some space to prepare for the gig. 

“You sometimes wish you could just do things anonymously again?” Luke asks, voice low, as they’re walking towards the bar. “Especially going to gigs. I love what I do, I really do, and I love connecting with people through my music, but it can be so exhausting. I just wanted to rock out with you tonight, man.” 

Reggie sighs. He does miss going to gigs anonymously. Especially when he could just spend time with Luke uninterrupted, getting lost in the music they both love for a little while. Reggie knows better than not being grateful for what he has, though, and not taking it all for granted. Because it’s rare, what they have. It doesn’t happen to most people, even though a lot of them wish for it. 

“Dude. All the time. But to be fair, we wouldn’t have gotten in here tonight without the _fame._ ” He emphasises the last word, smirking. 

Luke orders two beers and hands one over to Reggie. Reggie takes it and gives him a small nod to say thanks. 

“Cheers, man.” 

They’re just in time to catch the second support act, it seems, when people start cheering and heavy guitar music starts filling the small club. Reggie closes his eyes for a moment and lets the music flow through him, feels the way his heartbeat fits into the beat of the music, listens to the way the melodies make him feel like he can just float on their waves. 

“Luke? Sorry. I just saw you and I wanted to say hi,” a girl’s voice says, making Reggie open his eyes again. She’s maybe a few years younger than them and smiling shyly as she eyes Luke rather adoringly. “I really don’t want to bother you, so I’m gonna leave again in a sec, I just really wanted to show you my tattoo,” she tells Luke, holding out her arm. Reggie can’t really see the design, but he can see the look of absolute, unadulterated wonder and delight on Luke’s face, and he feels something flutter low in his stomach. 

“Dude! This is _sick!_ It’s beautiful! Oh man. I wish I had a camera with me so I could show it to the guys as well,” Luke tells the girl. The girl smiles happily, and tugs at the hems of her _Simple Plan_ shirt. 

“Thank you! I’m happy you like it. It really means so much to me. This song… it saved my life in so many ways. So thank you for writing it.” 

Reggie doesn’t know what song she’s talking about, but he thinks he can relate to that sentiment. Luke’s songs certainly got him through some of his darkest emotions as well. 

Luke returns her smile, and Reggie feels weak again, even though it’s not even directed at _him_ this time. 

“Well, it means a lot to me as well. So thank YOU for listening. What’s your name?” he asks. Reggie makes a note to ask fans their names as well in the future. He’s never really done it before, but Luke seems to do it every time, and it seems like a wonderful little way to make the encounter feel more personal, and to connect on a deeper level. Reggie gets a feeling that’s what Luke is all about, anyway. 

“Lane.” 

Luke tilts his head and keeps smiling at her. 

“Thank you, Lane. Do you want a hug?” 

Lane nods eagerly, and Luke pulls her into a hug that does not nearly look as awkward as Reggie sometimes feels hugging his fans. Luke also seems to hold on until _she_ lets go and steps back. 

“You’re even nicer than people say,” Lane tells him, looking happy and a little bit flushed. Reggie can’t blame her. He wants a hug too, now. “Well, I’m gonna leave you to enjoy this band. They sound _sick_. See ya.” 

And then she’s off again, and Luke sips his beer, sighing when he turns back to Reggie. Reggie’s jaw hurts a little, because he’s smiling so widely. 

“You’re so good with fans. I should take notes from you,” he voices his thoughts, sounding a little more breathless than he realised. Luke shrugs. 

“Eh. From what I’ve seen so far, you aren’t half bad yourself,” he tells him, and nudges his shoulder. “Let's go to the shadows a little bit, though. As much as I love those people, I would really like to see this band now.” 

He drags Reggie a little bit to the side, and Reggie finds himself revelling in the feeling of his hand in his again, even if it only lasts a few seconds. They stand in silence for a while, just sipping their beers and enjoying the music, both rocking along to it with their heads and limbs. Luke would comment on the music sometimes, pointing out riffs and chord progressions, and Reggie would happily indulge him by agreeing or discussing them. If he’s honest, standing there in a trashy little club listening to live punk music with Luke, he feels more alive than he had in a very long time. 

By the time _Simple Plan_ come on, they’re both on their third beer, and Reggie feels all bubbly as they finish off their discussion about the newest generation of Fender Strat guitars. Talking about music with Luke feels so organic, like it’s something they were always meant to do together. 

They start off with a song Pierre introduces as _One Day*_ and Reggie gets that feeling in his chest as he’s listening, that vibrating sensation you get when you’re listening to a song you’re going to love for the first time. Their next songs are just as good, and Reggie thinks this won’t be the last time they hear from _Simple Plan._ Their music is catchy enough to win people over, and their lyrics incredible enough to keep them. 

Luke's energy is infectious, and he drags Reggie into the mosh pit at one point, where they soon become the center of all attention. But they aren’t international music stars for nothing, so they both enjoy the spotlight and rock out in sync, moshing and dancing and hyping up the crowd around them. Reggie feels it down to his bones, feels himself vibrating with it, and Luke’s all engulfing energy spurs him on even further. They share a beaming smile, and Reggie desperately wants to hold onto Luke and never let him go again. He’s absolutely _fucked._

Pierre calls them up onto the stage right after their impromptu mosh pit performance, and the crowd is going wild. 

“Who wants to hear some _Sunset Cuuurve?”_ Pierre yells in his best band dude voice, and the cheers are deafening. Reggie takes over the bass and starts playing the familiar chords of _Now or Never,_ a song he’s played to himself more times than he can count. Reggie feels Luke’s voice somewhere deep in his chest when he starts singing, so familiar and yet so brand new all at once. Because Reggie has never heard him while also personally knowing a small part of him, a part that he hopes to expand soon. Luke is no longer a stranger making music that resonates with Reggie. He’s Luke now. And Reggie knows some of his quirks now, knows a little bit of his soul, and knows what his lips feel like against his and how he kisses like he plays music, giving it his everything. 

Luke switches back and forth with Pierre on the singing parts in a surprisingly smooth way considering they’ve never once rehearsed the song together before, and beckons Reggie over to share his mic for the pre-chorus. Reggie doesn’t need to be asked twice, screaming the lyrics together with Luke on the other side of the mic, their faces so close, Reggie feels his skin growing searingly hot again. Luke keeps scrunching up his nose as he sings in the most precious way Reggie has ever seen, his eyes sparkling with passion. He keeps glancing at Reggie’s lips too, and singing is so much harder when Luke makes him feel so breathless. He fears they’re both about to completely butcher the song if they keep getting lost in each other that way, so he’s almost glad when Luke pushes him away and jumps fully back into his singing. Reggie returns to his own mic and lets himself be carried by the flow of the song, rocking out to it to a crowd that’s going bonkers. He hasn’t really planned it, but when they get to the part of the song that is usually sung by Bobby Wilson, _Sunset Curve’s_ rhythm guitarist, Reggie belts out the notes. He feels Luke’s gaze on him as he sings, feeling the lyrics in his chest, vibrating with the energy. It keeps buzzing within him, even as they end the song on a high and the crowd explodes into an ocean of cheers. Reggie lets himself be carried by it, lets the lights blind him as he lets his eyes wander over the small crowd. He shrieks in surprise when Luke tackles him into a hug and claps on his shoulder as he starts jumping up and down, forcing Reggie to jump along with him. He didn’t see him coming, but he’s not going to complain.

“That was _amazing,_ dude! You _nailed_ that!” Luke yells. 

Reggie laughs with his whole chest, nearly bursting at the seams with the fluttering under his ribcage. He’s so wrapped up in Luke, he nearly misses Pierre addressing him directly over the mic. 

“Well, Reggie, man. The crowd is making demands, it seems,” the singer says, and he only notices now that the crowd has started chanting _Home Is Where My Horse Is._

Reggie grins a little smugly as he takes a mic. The crowd at a punk show demanding to hear his country song is a life goal reached that he didn’t even know he had. 

“If the _crowd_ demands it, who am I to say NO?” he yells, feeling completely in his element. He really misses being on tour, he thinks. “Who wants to hear the unreleased punk version, though?” 

It’s a silly personal project of his that he never even intended to share with the public, but somehow it feels like the perfect moment to indulge it anyway. 

The shouts become deafening again, and Reggie beams. He’s going to love this. He can’t even describe how good it feels so just do something _he_ wants for once. Reggie gestures for Luke to take an electric guitar, and he does as he’s been told. 

“You’ll manage?” he asks, turning away from the mic. He knows that Luke doesn’t know the song, but he has a feeling that Luke is some kind of musical prodigy who will pick up the chord progressions in no time. Reggie takes an acoustic guitar and starts out with that, and he feels Luke’s eyes on him again. It makes him grow invisible wings when he starts singing. _**_

Luke does get the hang of the song rather quickly, and the rest of the band seem to know the country version anyway, so they’re rocking out again, Reggie belting out the lyrics with a little more of a raspy edge to his chest voice than he usually goes for. 

Reggie doesn’t even think about it when he goes over to share his mic with Luke, and he feels like his chest is about to burst when Luke actually sings the lyrics of the chorus back at him, grinning as he holds eye contact. He’s fully serenading Luke with his silly horse lyrics, and the worst part is that Luke seems to be serenading right back. Reggie might not have the highest opinion of himself most of the time and really doesn’t understand what Luke seems to be seeing in him, but even he knows that Luke is flirting with him, just like he’s been the whole night so far. They’re right there for everyone to see, but the stage gives them a safety net. 

Luke pulls Reggie in a headlock the moment the last chord rings out, and it’s such a _friendly_ thing to do, Reggie feels a little startled by the familiarity. It’s like they’ve been friends for years, when their whole relationship until tonight was parasocial from Reggie’s side, and nonexistent from Luke’s. He supposes the fact that they already had their tongues down each other’s throats so early on helped some in getting comfortable around each other, but Reggie has still never experienced anything like it before. 

Reggie knows he has to let him go again eventually. There has been a painful, Luke shaped hole in his life before that he didn’t even realise was there, but somehow it feels like it’s too tight for Luke to actually fit in. Reggie doesn’t know _how_ to stop _,_ though, how to let him go. And right now, he doesn’t want to think about it. He just wants to hold onto what they have, for as long as he can. It’s fire, it’s electricity, and Reggie’s been addicted to the pain for so long now. Because Luke burns him, but he also eases the pain; he’s the sun burning his skin on a summer day, and he’s also the rain cooling it on the same summer night. 

They’re laughing when they stumble out of the club together after the gig and several more beers with the band, playfully shoving at each other, still on a high from their performance. 

“Dude! That was so awesome! Now I really can’t wait to make my punk album so I can actually rock out like that on stage again!” Reggie shouts, overflowing with the intense emotions running through his veins, and Luke high-fives him. 

“You are _incredible_ , Peters. Holy _shit_!” Luke tells him, voice raised the way it usually is after a noisy show. 

“ _Home Is Where My Horse Is_ , though?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. Reggie expected his amusement, but he still blushes a little. 

“Hey! It’s a good song, alright? It was my first hit. And in my defense, I wrote it when I was 16,” Reggie informs him, but Luke merely shrugs, still laughing as he bumps his shoulder into Reggie’s. 

“That’s fair. I wrote some shitty songs in my teens as well,” he admits. “None of them became hits, though.”

Reggie chuckles. 

“Really? Luke Patterson wrote bad songs?” he asks teasingly as they start walking down the street again. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard a bad song written by Luke. 

“Shhh. Don’t tell anyone,” Luke hisses, and they both laugh again. Reggie feels lighter than he has in a very long time, and somehow like something important inside him has finally clicked into place. He doesn’t even remember the last time he’s felt so much like himself, like he’s just where he belongs. Something akin to happiness is running through his veins like a rush, propelling him on. He’s forgotten what it’s like to feel this way; like he’s on the verge of something, the possibilities endless as he’s falling together with someone he can see himself loving with everything he has. He doesn’t think about how he can’t, or how he’s only known Luke for a few hours. For now, he just _is,_ and he lets himself have this feeling he’s missed out on for so long. 

“I feel like I could fly, man,” Luke says, his voice as rich with emotion as Reggie feels. 

“Me too,” he agrees. He doesn’t want the night to end just yet. Reggie wants to hold on for a little longer until he has to face his reality, and the inevitable guilt. “Can I take you somewhere?” 

Luke meets his eyes. 

“Sure. Anywhere,” he says, and his smile rips something open in Reggie’s chest that he isn’t sure can ever be mended again. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr [@sunsetcurveofficial](http://sunsetcurveofficial.tumblr.com)


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